


don't let me be gone

by thisapathy



Series: liar, you'll pay for your sins [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confrontations, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-20 04:05:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisapathy/pseuds/thisapathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Rick and Carl have managed to stay together this long Carl doesn't know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't let me be gone

**Author's Note:**

> bad things happen in threes

How Rick and Carl have managed to stay together this long, Carl doesn't know. Their relationship didn't exactly bloom from the best of circumstances. Carl still has all of these little insecurities, wondering if Rick really loves him. But he supposes that if their relationship was still just Rick comforting him with sex and kisses, they would've split a long time ago. Rick surely wouldn't have woken Carl up with his mouth between his thighs this morning. He just wouldn't.

Two hickeys and a lot moans later, Carl finally rolls out of bed and heads for the shower. It's his last week of school so he doesn't bother trying to look nice. He throws on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and he's running a brush through his hair when Rick reunites with him. Rick hugs him from behind and Carl has to admit that he loves that Rick is still taller than him, especially when Rick rests his chin in the crook of his neck. "I can't believe you're graduating."

Carl looks at their reflection in the mirror, the fresh hickey peeking out just beneath the collar of his v-neck shirt. He reaches up and runs his hand through Rick's hair. The gray at his temples still somehow makes him more attractive and Carl finds himself smiling fondly. "I know. I can't wait to get out of here for a while."

Rick's told him that he's planned a cruise from California to Vancouver for them to celebrate his graduating high school. The thought of being out and away from their town is more than appealing. The idea that they'll be able to act freely in public is overwhelming. They've been holed up in the house for the last year, forced to keep their relationship confined to the privacy of their house.

Rick raises his gaze in the mirror, arms still wrapped around Carl's slim torso. They stay like that for a while, staring at each other's reflections until Rick kisses his cheek, whispering in his ear, "You're so beautiful."

Carl hates that he blushes, hates that the tone of Rick's voice gets him so flustered. He doesn't really know what to say, so he kisses Rick's cheek and pulls out of his grip. "I gotta go."

"Yeah, me too. See you tonight."

"Mhm."

+

Carl's decision to go to community college for his basic courses may or may not weigh heavily on his relationship with Rick. Either way, Carl thinks it'll be a good transition; still living at home like in high school, but taking college classes. Rick agrees. He tells Carl it's a good idea between kisses he places against Carl's shoulder, cock buried deep in his ass. When Rick moves his hips just so, Carl is struck with a volt of pleasure that assures him he's making the right choice. How could he ever be away from _that_?

+

Graduation is nothing special; Carl walks the stage but he doesn't have other people cheering for him like every one else. All Carl has is Rick. Sometimes he wishes he had a family, and then he remembers that he would have; if he'd stayed with the Andersons, he would have a mother and an older brother and a younger brother. But then Carl remembers the smile Rick gives him every morning and decides that he's okay with not having a family.

+

They pack up and head for Los Angeles three days after Carl graduates. They don't stick around for any graduation parties; they head to the airport in Atlanta. After they get through security, they lounge at the gate. Other passengers are few and far between because they're early, but that's fine with Carl. He spends most of the time waiting, resting his head against Rick's shoulder because he can at least do that without getting any strange looks.

After a while, Rick stands up and stretches. Carl whines softly in disappointment, now forced to hold the weight of his head on his own. "Where are you going?"

"Coffee. Want anything?"

"Venti java chip Frappuccino."

Rick nods and walks away. Carl watches him, realizing that he can see the Starbucks line from here. He watches Rick navigate through the line and can't stop smiling. He can't believe they're so close to freedom. The thought of being able to hold Rick's hand in public is exciting and it makes his heart race.

Carl's still grinning when Rick comes back later. Rick hands him his Frappuccino and their fingers brush and Carl has to fight the urge to grab Rick's collar and pull him down for a kiss. When Rick sits down, Carl settles for resting his head on his shoulder once more.

+

The flight is nearly 5 hours long even without layovers. They get off the plane and navigate LAX and it's nearly midnight when they get to the hotel. They're exhausted but the thrill of bring in a totally different city, different state, doesn't keep them from fucking hard on the lavish hotel bed.

+

They're on the ship by noon the following day and quickly eat at one of the buffets. They announce that cabins are ready shortly before disembarking. With their carry on bags slung over his shoulder, Carl grabs Rick's hand and leads him to the elevator.

Rick's booked them a balcony room on the 9th floor. It's small but there are sliding glass doors that lead to the balcony and there are two chairs and Carl can't wait to sit outside with Rick in the early mornings and just be.

They're still holding hands even when Carl goes to check out the shower. It's small but probably big enough for 2 people. They'll definitely experiment later.

Rick looks through the minibar in the fridge, turning back to Carl when he's through. "So, what do you wanna do?"

It's cliche but Carl can't resist the urge to pull Rick into a heated kiss. First things first: they've got to christen the room.

+

They're courteous of their fellow cruisers except when Rick thrusts his hips just so and Carl reaches out for something and ends up punching the wall. And then Rick's laughing and Carl is giggling and it's almost 3 AM and they shouldn't even still be awake.

Rick chuckles into his ear and then Carl feels Rick's hand slide between his back and the mattress. Rick flips them over and Carl smiles down at Rick, biting his bottom lip because Rick just looks so good like this. Carl presses his hands to Rick's chest and moves his hips until they're both coming with quiet moans.

+

They depart in San Francisco for a number of hours. When they get off the boat holding hands, no one gives them a second glance.

They walk the shops and Carl walks impossibly close to Rick, arms brushing, fingers interlaced. "I wish it could be like this all the time," he says softly, looking up. "No one cares, no one's looking. No one knows." Carl doesn't elaborate, doesn't have to say that no one knows they're related. Rick gets it. But somehow Carl doesn't think it bothers Rick as much as it does himself.

Rick leans over, kissing the top of Carl's hair. "I know, baby."

"We could move," Carl shrugs. He sees a comic book store that he'd like to go to and pulls Rick in that direction.

"We'll see," Rick says, giving his hand a squeeze.

+

The rest of the trip is uneventful, mostly just soft kisses at the dinner table and hand holding in the hallways. Even then, Carl still doesn’t want to go home when they get off the plane back in Atlanta.

He doesn’t want to unpack, he doesn’t want to think about spending the rest of the summer at home while Rick is working and he certainly doesn’t want to think about starting college in the fall.

He feels himself slipping into a funk, for lack of a better word. Or maybe it’s just denial that he’s going to have to do things he doesn’t want to and they’ve got to go back to hiding their relationship and Carl really, _really_ doesn’t want to.

+

Carl becomes accustomed to spending all day in bed playing on his phone waiting for Rick to come home. He hates that he can’t make himself get up, but he doesn’t fight it. He misses their time on vacation together, times when they could be out in the open. Sure, they got a few looks but that’s probably only because Carl’s so much younger than Rick.

Sometimes Rick will come by during lunch and even then it’s hard for Carl to get out of bed. When Rick sits down and pulls Carl into his arms and asks why he’s still in bed, Carl can’t really answer the question. He just rests his head against Rick’s chest and tells him he wishes things were different. And Rick will kiss his hair and rub his back and whisper “I know, baby.”

+

When school starts in August at least Carl can get out of the house. He meets new people and he actually likes most of his professors. There’s a boy in his economics class that looks like Ron and Carl swears it’s him—until the kid raises his eyes and Carl realizes they’re not a pretty, soft brown and instead blue, like his own.

And then Carl remembers: _Ron_.

He wonders if Ron is doing okay. He wonders if Ron is in school and how he’s doing and how Sam is doing. He wonders if Jessie found someone else after Rick left.

When everyone gets up from their seats an hour or so later, Carl realizes he’s spent the entirety of the class with these thoughts swirling in his head and hasn’t taken a single note.

+

That evening, Carl and Rick decide to go out to eat. They’re both tired and neither of them feel like cooking, so they settle from the little diner on the other side of town. It’s a bit of a ways away, but the evening is nice and unusually cool for August.

Carl changes into a pair of sweats and an old, comfy t-shirt and follows Rick out to the truck.

“How was class?” Rick asks several minutes later.

“Good,” Carl says, shrugging. “I like my professors so far. How was your day?”

“Good. Uneventful.”

“I’ve missed you lately,” Carl discloses, reaching over and setting a hand on Rick’s knee. “Seems like I see you less now than I did in high school.”

Rick takes one hand off the steering wheel and lays it over Carl’s. “I know. We’ll manage, though, right?”

”Right,” Carl smiles.

+

The restaurant is crowded. Not even crowded, packed. They’re lucky to get seated when they do, the waitress tells them, otherwise the wait would be fifteen to twenty minutes. They got the last open table in the place.

Rick and Carl follow the hostess to a small booth in the corner and slides the menus onto the table. Carl wastes no time looking over the menu, deciding on chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes because he’s in desperate need of comfort food.

Their waiter stops at their booth, sliding two coasters onto the table. “Hey, guys, my name’s—”

That voice. Carl _knows_ that voice. He raises his eyes from the menu before Ron can even get his name out. He watches as Rick does the same and the smile on Ron's face falls and his shoulders drop. No one really knows what to say and Ron shifts on his feet. He won't look at Rick; he just barely looks at Carl.

Carl glances to Rick and Rick looks like he's ready to pounce on Ron and rip his throat out with his teeth. Carl understands why; as far as Rick knows, Ron is a terrible person who raped and molested his son repeatedly. Of course Carl can't tell Rick the truth. Not now.

"I, uh, I'd sit you guys in another section but we're full."

"We'll go," Rick says, grabbing the edge of the table and sliding to the edge of the booth.

"No," Carl says quickly. He looks up at Ron who looks so completely embarrassed and humiliated, then over to Rick. "It's fine, Dad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Ron nods and licks his lips in the way Carl remembers. Rick orders a beer and Carl orders a Coke and he can barely get the words out and suddenly he isn't hungry at all.

"Carl," Rick says lowly.

"Yeah."

Rick does that thing with his head where he ducks just enough to meet Carl's gaze. "You're sure this is alright?"

Carl takes a deep breath and nods. "Yeah, it's fine. I'm over it," he says, reaching across the table to take Rick's hand. Rick's fingers curl over Carl's immediately. Rick is probably thinking about how brave Carl is for facing his abuser.

Ron comes back some minutes later and Rick and Carl are still holding hands and Carl knows that Ron sees them. Carl pulls back first before their drinks are placed on the table. He supposes he should look at the menu and pretend that he even feels like eating anymore.

+

Rick orders a steak and Carl orders chicken fried steak like he planned. He doesn't even eat half; he picks at his mashed potatoes. But Rick cleans his plate and stands up, dropping his napkin on the table. "Get the check," he says.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom."

Carl nods and listens to the sounds Rick's boots make against the floor as he walks away. His heart hasn't stopped pounding the entire time they've been here. He doesn't want to get Ron's attention, doesn't want to call him by name like they're best fucking friends. He waits for Ron to come around the corner and Ron is smiling when he does, but as soon as he hears Carl call "Ron!" the smile falls.

Ron looks like he wants to run the other direction but he comes to the table anyway. "Yeah."

The question Carl wants to come out isn't the one that does. "How are you?" comes out instead. Carl's staring at his hands where they're folded on the table.

Ron hesitates for so long that Carl wonders if he actually did ask that. "Do you really want to know or are you just trying to throw shit in my face?"

"I'm asking."

"Well," Ron starts, holding a serving tray against his hip, "I had to drop out of school to take care of Sam because my mom went off the deep end after you left, so it's been a real party."

"Is she okay?"

"She's in rehab," Ron admits.

"Drugs?"

"Alcohol," Ron murmurs, blinking back tears and Carl's heart just keeps sinking further and further. The reality of what Carl's done, the gradual collapse of Ron's entire life before it started, comes crashing down on Carl all at once. The few bites of food he managed to actually swallow threaten to come back up because it's his fault, just like Lori's death.

"Why didn't you say something?" Carl blurts before he can stop himself. He really needs to stop doing that. "Why don't you tell her the truth?"

Ron swallows. "I've tried. She doesn't believe me."

"You could've—why didn't you even fight it?"

"Because what happened is on you, Carl. Not me. I wasn’t going to out you because I knew something really bad happened and I fucking loved you."

"I know," Carl whispers. He knows Ron loved him. He knew it then and he took advantage of it. He supposes hindsight is 20/20.

Rick comes back from the bathroom, walking up behind Ron. "Get the check?" he asks Carl.

"N-no."

"You need anything else?" Ron asks, not looking at either of them.

"Just the check."

Ron pulls his check book out, flipping through it and placing the ticket face down in the middle of the table. He walks away without saying anything and Carl can't ignore the unshed tears in Ron's eyes.

As Carl follows his dad to the front to pay, he feels like crying too.

+

In the car on the way home, Ron's words loop continuously. _What happened is on you, not me._ Rick tries talking but Carl doesn't feel like it; all he wants to do is go home and curl up in bed.

The thing is, Carl never makes it home. He meets the same fate as his mother; a man in a truck runs a red light, t-bones Rick's truck on the passenger’s side. Carl never even sees it coming.


End file.
